


Fire Escape Nights

by Kaysee_Nova



Series: Compass [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Time, Friends to Lovers, Light Medical Kink, Light Nipple Play, M/M, Period Typical Confusion About Sexuality, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Prostate Massage, brooklyn boys exploring their sexuality and they don't even realize that's what they're doing, bucky barnes plays nurse, never mind the war on the horizon, steamy summer nights, this is really just pure sweet vanilla stucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:20:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26479381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaysee_Nova/pseuds/Kaysee_Nova
Summary: It's the summer of 1941. Bucky jumps to the wrong conclusion when he comes home and finds Steve alone and naked, playing with himself.~*~“Does that mean I get to play nurse?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows, very pleased when Steve blushed peachy-pink. He’d taken a little too much sun during their trip to Coney Island and now Steve had a mess of freckles on his nose and cheeks. His blush made his freckles pop.“Yes, I guess it does,” said Steve, mortified and shaking his head.“S’all right, princess. I’ll treat you real good,” said Bucky, with a wink.“Oh brother,” muttered Steve, finishing his stew and making Bucky grin.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Compass [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116011
Comments: 37
Kudos: 172





	Fire Escape Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of a multi-part series which centers around a bisexual Steve and Bucky (and also Peggy, eventually). It features sexual exploration, the joys of prostate massage, and a lot of sex. This part is Steve/Bucky. Part two will be Steve/Peggy, and part three will be Steve/Peggy/Bucky. There might be a fourth part, if I can manage it. Each part can be read on its own. 
> 
> I had the idea for this story and this series ages ago but life, whatnot, and other committments kept me from it. It turned out a lot more tender and bittersweet than I had originally intended, what with the war looming in the future for Steve and Bucky, not to mention the later events in canon. But fear not, this is ultimately a happy sex-filled story with only a dash of angst. Enjoy!

Bucky ran up the stairs, pausing when he reached the landing to dig around in his pockets for his key. The sack of groceries in his arms made it difficult. It was a warm day, and sweat trickled down into the small of his back. But there was a cool breeze underneath the late afternoon Brooklyn heat that felt nice. He found his keys, opened the door, and entered. 

Their apartment was small but clean and tidy. An open window let in the breeze, causing the curtains to flutter. But the door to the bedroom was closed. 

“Steve? Are you home?” he called, heading first into the kitchen to put the groceries down – a bit of salt pork to cook in a cabbage stew for later, and he’d scored two perfect large oranges that came all the way from California. He couldn’t wait to watch Steve eat a juicy slice. 

“Uh…yeah,” answered Steve, sounding distracted. “Give me a sec.”

Bucky walked over to the bedroom door, listening. “You okay in there?” He didn’t wait for an answer but opened the door right away. 

Steve was undressed except for his unbuttoned underwear pulled hastily over his hips, while he tugged on his robe. His pale skin bloomed pink with a blush. 

“Whoa, what are you doing?” asked Bucky.

“Hey! Do you mind?”

“Sorry,” said Bucky. But he wasn’t sorry at all, amused by the entire picture Steve presented. “Are you playing with yourself?” he asked.

Steve’s blush deepened, traveling down his chest, nipples tight and pointy, but Steve tied his robe around him and hid them from view. “No,” he answered, annoyed, but then his honest nature got the better of him. He frowned and shook his head. “Not exactly.”

Bucky laughed. “It’s okay, pal. We all do it. I won’t tell Father Mike, I promise.”

“It’s not that,” said Steve, and then he looked dejectedly around the room and Bucky noticed an open book on Steve’s bed propped up on a pillow, as well as a mirror and an open jar of something nestled in the bedclothes.

Bucky went over to the bed, realizing that the book was one of Steve’s Ma’s medical textbooks. It was opened to a page showing a cross-section diagram of a man’s penis, with the heading titled “Prostate Gland.” Then Bucky noticed the jar of ointment that had Dr. Lansing’s label on it. 

Suddenly, Bucky got worried. Was Steve sick again? “Hey, are you okay? Are you feeling well? What’s going on here?”

“I’m fine,” said Steve with stubbornness. 

Back in February, Steve had gotten sick with a light cough that had developed into full-blown bronchitis. He still had the occasional lingering chest tightness he tried to hide from Bucky but Bucky wasn’t fooled. Last week, Bucky had bullied Steve into going to Coney Island, hoping the sea air would do him some good. Maybe the sun could burn the last of the cough out of Steve’s lungs. Though mostly it had only given Steve a light sunburn.

Noticing Bucky’s worry, Steve softened his attitude. “I’m not sick. Honest. Just…” he paused, then released a full-body sigh. It all came out in a rush. “I went to see the doc last week for that final check-up – got a clean bill of health I swear! But he said I might benefit from regular…massage… He had the nurse do this massage thing and said I should come back again at least once a week or no less than every other week for the next three months. But it was kind of an uncomfortable experience. And expensive. I thought I could just do it on my own. So I tried today.” He frowned at Bucky. “I didn’t think you were coming home till later.”

Bucky digested Steve’s monologue, trying to pick out the important parts. “Mitchell let us off early from the docks. There was no more work after three,” answered Bucky in a distracted manner, still judging for himself if Steve was sick or not, taking a closer look at the diagram in the textbook. “What kind of massage?” 

Steve pinched his lips together, his cheeks a peach fuzz pink. “Digital manipulation of the prostate gland.” 

It was Bucky’s turn to flush, his ears burning. He didn’t know the prostate gland from the pituitary gland but he knew enough about anatomy to know what sticking your fingers up your ass meant, having had a rough education with all the loose talk down at the docks. Bucky had turned down several offers from men. Men who wanted to get on their knees and suck him off or who asked him to suck them off. Those that wanted a quick hand job, or asked if he’d want to visit a bathhouse with them. Some described in detail what they wanted to do to his backside. He’d gotten very good at avoiding the more aggressive types. But he guessed this was different than having sex with a man if the doctor was saying it was okay. “The doc said that was good for you?”

Catching on to Bucky’s meaning, Steve blushed even more. He shrugged. “It’s a gland,” he said, like that made all the difference. “He said it could get backed up.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose, not that he understood what that meant at all. “And you were trying to do it yourself? Didn’t go well, huh?” 

“Well you came home!” said Steve, defensive and very indignant with his hands on his hips. And if that wasn’t the funniest image – little Steve, angry but barefoot, yelling at him. It made Bucky smile. “And it’s not easy to bend around.” Steve made a gesture, showing how he had to contort his body, making amusing hand gestures like he was digging for something. “It’s not like…the other thing.” Then he made a different, more recognizable hand gesture.

Bucky all of a sudden laughed. It was just funny that Steve couldn’t say “jerking off” like a normal person but he didn’t mind miming it. 

“S’not funny,” said Steve, mulishly. 

That just made Bucky laugh more. “I don’t know, it’s pretty funny from where I’m standing,” he said. But out of respect for Steve, he tried to sober up and stop laughing. 

“You’re such a jerk,” said Steve because Bucky was obviously so amused, but then he was laughing too, the awkwardness in the room vanishing. 

“Come on, Stevie,” said Bucky. “How bad can it be? You need help? I can play nurse.” 

“You’re not being serious,” said Steve, both frowning and laughing. 

“I am!” he insisted. “It’s not like I’m a stranger to your backside. There was that time when I had to give you—”

Steve shook his head, waving his hands to get Bucky to stop talking. He did not like to remember the time Bucky had to give Steve an enema. “Don’t bring that up. Please.”

“And I’ve taken your temperature. Down there. What’s the big deal?”

But Bucky knew what the big deal was. This was difficult for Steve. Anything to do with his health was difficult. It was a sore subject, and it brought out all of Steve’s insecurities. It didn’t help that it terrified Bucky when Steve got sick, and Bucky wasn’t good at hiding his fear. He could joke about having to give Steve an enema and stick a thermometer up his ass, but Steve had been deathly ill both times and Bucky never wanted to repeat anything like that ever again. 

A somber tone filled the silence. Steve seemed to read Bucky’s thoughts, a look of regret and understanding entering his eyes. “Bucky,” he said, more gentle than before. “I swear I’m fine. I’m not sick. This massage thing is just…it’s not necessary, not critical. I don’t have to do it. Besides, it’s Friday. Don’t you have a date tonight?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m not meeting Dot until after nine. We’ve got plenty of time. If the doc said it would help you, then if I have any say in this, you’re going to do it. I’ll find the money for you to go every week. It’s either that or I do it. Or I can ask my cousin Muriel. She’s a nurse. If you don’t want me. Those are your choices.”

Steve pinched his lips, but Bucky could be just as stubborn as Steve if he needed to be. 

“It’s not so bad,” said Bucky, consolingly, trying to get Steve to bend a little. “Could be a pretty nurse who does it at the Doc’s.”

Steve shook his head. “You do not know Nurse Fredricks. She’s kind of no-nonsense, and treats me like one of her grandkids. Likes to pinch my cheeks. Both sets of cheeks. And she speaks to me in German.”

Bucky had to smile again. “Hm,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Grandma not your type, huh? Not sure cousin Muriel will do it for your either. Well, then I offer my services as nurse again. I’ve got to be prettier than Nurse Fredrick at least.” 

Steve scoffed, but he did smile at that. “Not hardly.” They fell silent until Steve shook his head again. “Bucky, you don’t have to do this. I’m not asking this of you. You already do too much.”

“Shut up,” said Bucky, interrupting him. “You let me worry about what’s too much.” But he decided to switch tactics. He took a beat to study Steve – dressed in that terrycloth robe, with the light from the window falling gently over his dark blonde hair and pale skin. “Listen, let’s forget it for now. Sorry I ruined your date with yourself.” Steve snorted. “Why don’t we have some dinner and you can think it over. I’m gonna have a bath after we eat cause I need one. You want one too?” 

Bucky didn’t often start issuing orders like that, but it was gratifying when Steve timidly nodded and agreed.

“Okay then, start boiling water. We’ll talk after. All right, pal?” asked Bucky, taking Steve by the shoulders and giving him a side hug, patting him friendly-like on the back, and rubbing his chest.

“All right,” agreed Steve, grinning. 

Steve struggled to haul the two large buckets of water onto the stove, but Bucky didn’t help him. Their apartment was a cold-water flat, so they had to heat the water each time if they want a warm bath. Bucky rolled up his sleeves and began to quickly prepare dinner. It only took about a half an hour for the stew to cook, and Bucky ladled out two bowls for him and Steve. They ate at the kitchen table, listening to the radio give the evening news. 

The news had nothing good to report about the conflict in Europe. And now there was added tensions with Japan. To Bucky, the troubles overseas seemed very far away but he noticed how much Steve paid attention, a pinch of worry between his brows. “What are you thinking?” asked Bucky.

Steve shook his head, sitting back in his chair to stare out the window. The days were longer now. It was going to be Steve’s birthday soon. Bucky watched how the breeze ruffled Steve’s hair. 

“We’ll be brought into this war one way or the other. It’s just a matter of time,” Steve said. He shifted and looked directly at Bucky. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should do everything I can to get ready. To keep fit.”

An alarm bell rang inside Bucky, at the certainty in Steve’s voice. If Steve said they were going to go to war, then Bucky believed him. Steve was rarely wrong. 

It worried him, on many levels. But he didn’t want Steve to be disappointed if and when they did go to war. What if the army rejected him? Or worse, what if the army actually took him? They might take him, Bucky realized, and they’d be fools not to. Sure Steve was skinny, but he could outsmart and out-stubborn anyone, even that crazy Adolf Hitler. The U.S. Army would be lucky to have him. With a sigh, Bucky realized he’d do anything he could to help Steve get ready for it, if that’s what he wanted. 

Not that sticking his fingers up Steve’s ass would help him get into the army, but if it was going to keep him healthy, Bucky was all right with it. 

“Does that mean I get to play nurse?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows, very pleased when Steve blushed peachy-pink. He’d taken a little too much sun during their trip to Coney Island and now Steve had a mess of freckles on his nose and cheeks. His blush made his freckles pop. 

“Yes, I guess it does,” said Steve, mortified and shaking his head.

“S’all right, princess. I’ll treat you real good,” said Bucky, with a wink. 

“Oh brother,” muttered Steve, finishing his stew and making Bucky grin. 

A little while later, Bucky shooed Steve out of the kitchen so he could bathe. It’s not that they were shy with each other, but they also respected each other’s privacy if they could. It had been a few days since his last bath and Bucky could feel the grime on his skin. He filled the tub, then put on more water to heat for Steve’s bath, before stripping and getting in, groaning as the heat relaxed his muscles. 

His mind wandered over many topics – his job at the docks, the news from Europe, what the doctor said to Steve. His thoughts lingered over Steve. He could hear Steve puttering around in the other room. In a couple hours, Bucky would be sticking his fingers inside Steve’s rear end. That thought pushed front and center of his mind, and his dick twitched, lengthening against his thigh. 

He frowned. He’d never thought of himself as one to get aroused thinking about men. And it seemed disrespectful to Steve. He shouldn’t be thinking about his best friend like that. But then Bucky reasoned he tended to get hard at the merest mention of anything remotely sexual so he probably shouldn’t read too much into it. Heck, a stiff breeze could get his dick hard these days. One time he got hard at the grocery store, staring at a bunch of melons. That had been embarrassing. 

With his conscious absolved of any serious wrongdoing, he took hold of his cock and gave it a good tug, feeling it grow in his hand, smiling a little as he remembered walking in on Steve when he thought Steve had been playing with himself. His dick hardened sharply, and a bit of come dripped off the end into the water. Bucky drew in a breath, heat pooling in his lower back. He didn’t have a lot of time, knowing Steve was waiting on him, so he grabbed his balls loosely with one hand, shivering at how good it felt, raising a leg slightly so he could reach his own asshole. He smiled again when he realized Steve was right, it was awkward sticking your own fingers up inside your own ass. 

With his other hand, he gripped his cock and started sliding up and down. Slowly at first, letting it build, then going faster. With his finger, he circled around his asshole, just to see how it felt, and his dick spasmed in his hand. He jerked faster, his knee banging on the side of the tub. At the critical moment, he thought of Steve, of those freckles over his nose, and he came with a gasp.

~*~

Bucky waited on the fire escape for Steve to finish with his bath. It was their little ritual, to sit for a few minutes on the fire escape each evening during the summer months when the weather permitted. Bucky took both oranges and a kitchen rag, lazily peeling as he waited. He inhaled the light citrus zing, feeling the juice drip off his fingers. It didn’t take long for Steve to join him, climbing through the window out onto the metal landing.

“Oranges?” Steve asked, a pleased look of surprise on his face as he settled across from Bucky on the landing. He’d changed into a loose pair of slacks and a sleeveless undershirt but was still barefoot, his hair damp and curling around his ears, and he had brought out a notebook and a pencil. 

Bucky grinned. “You betcha. Two of ‘em! So we can each have our own. They were the last two, and old Mr. Gillis only charged me five cents for both.” 

He handed Steve his peeled orange, and then took his own, opening up the fruit by sticking his fingers into the hole and tearing it apart. Juice dripped free. He looked up and caught Steve watching him with a curious head tilt. Bucky grinned as he popped a wedge into his mouth, the juices flowing down his throat, and Steve grinned back. “Eat it already,” said Bucky, eating another slice of orange. They were perfect – juicy, and sweet.

“Okay, okay,” said Steve, tearing into his own orange and taking a bite of one wedge. He licked a drop of orange juice off his lips, sighing in contentment. 

“They’re good, right?”

Steve met his eyes, a soft indulgent smile on his lips. “Yeah,” he agreed, eating the other half of the orange wedge. It burst. Steve had juice dripping down his chin. Bucky watched him lick his fingers. 

Bucky congratulated himself, mentally patting himself on the back for scoring those oranges as he watched Steve eat another wedge, licking more juice off his fingers so he didn’t mess up his notebook.

The sun was just beginning to set. A shaft of light fell between their building and the one next to it, catching Steve in a golden glow as he finished his orange. Fresh from his bath, Steve’s hair was fluffy and lighter in color than usual without any pomade in it. It made him look younger than his 22 years. Something in Bucky’s chest shifted, a kind of desperate, falling-down feeling as he watched Steve bend earnestly over his notebook, like Steve was too far away from him even though they were just on opposite ends of the fire escape.

“Whatcha drawing today?” asked Bucky, just to ask. 

Steve looked up, and those freckles of his caught Bucky off guard again, and he couldn’t help but think how he’d jacked off just an hour ago thinking of those freckles. 

Steve, unaware of where Bucky’s thoughts had gone, bit his lip. “Just finishing up the map I started.” He added more shading before handing the notebook over to Bucky. 

Since the start of the war in Europe, Steve had been drawing maps. He called them maps but they were really recreated army movements he’d taken from reading the newspapers. Steve was always trying to predict what the next move would be. This was why Bucky never won when they played chess. Bucky took the notebook and looked at the detailed map, seeing the markings Steve made of where he thought the German forces would go next. 

But below the map, Steve had drawn a quick sketch of Bucky’s hands tearing open the peeled orange. Steve had captured the details of Bucky’s fingers, his thumb pressed into the hole of the orange, the spray of juice that came out, the muscles along his forearm. How Steve had drawn this so quickly, Bucky had no idea. It was a rough sketch, unfinished, but still rich in detail. Like all of Steve’s sketches. 

“You’re really good,” said Bucky, handing Steve back his notebook. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it.

Steve blushed, and there were those freckles again. He lowered his eyes, his long sand-colored lashes catching some of the sun’s dying light. He was just so pleasing to look at. Bucky could look at Steve for always. 

“Thanks,” said Steve, almost shyly, keeping his eyes lowered. 

Bucky would have complimented Steve more but he knew it made Steve uncomfortable. Instead, they fell back into silence. The last lick of color lingered in the slice of sky they could see between buildings, and Brooklyn filled with nighttime noises. Bucky took this time to really observe Steve. He’d put on a little weight after being sick but was still a few pounds short of where he should be. He was pale, as always, but that day at Coney Island had given him a smidge of color – new freckles now also dusted Steve’s shoulders. Bucky wasn’t any kind of doctor, but he knew Steve, and Bucky knew he wasn’t quite back to normal yet. It was subtle though. Maybe this massage thing really would help.

“You ready to do this?” he asked. 

Steve took a breath like he was going to say it wasn’t necessary again but then Bucky lifted an eyebrow. “If you’re sure?” asked Steve.

Bucky nodded. “I’m sure.”

~*~

Back inside, they went into the bedroom together. Steve stood awkwardly by the bed like he’d forgotten what they’d come in there to do.

“Why don’t you get undressed,” said Bucky, recognizing that he needed to take the lead. “And then get on the bed.”

Steve blinked. “Right,” he said, then began tugging off his undershirt. 

Bucky found Steve’s Ma’s medical book again and quickly read the passage on the prostate gland. He probably should have read it earlier, but he hadn’t wanted to spook Steve more than he already was. It offered some basic guidelines for a prostate massage. 

When he set the book down again, Steve was naked with his back to the room as he carefully hung up his trousers. 

Even though they saw each other naked often enough since they lived together, it wasn’t polite to stare. But Bucky let himself stare at Steve now. Pale skin, thought Bucky, eyeing the swoop of Steve’s lower back meeting the swell of his butt cheeks. All of Steve’s clothes were always so big on him that it made Steve look smaller than he actually was. Yeah, he was short and always too thin, but his butt cheeks were round and looked like a nice handful each. When Steve turned to face the room, Bucky’s eyes dropped to Steve’s cock between his legs. It hung flaccid, but maybe because the rest of Steve was so skinny, it looked bigger than Bucky had imagined. Steve’s balls were…sweet looking, not too big or too small.

They stared at each other. Bucky cleared his throat and then pointed at the bed. “I’m gonna,” he croaked, clearing his throat again. “I’m gonna wash my hands, and then be right back.”

Steve nodded. Bucky nodded back at him before he remembered he was supposed to be washing his hands. He left the room, Steve watching him go. In the kitchen, Bucky shook his head as if it to clear it. His mind was light and buzzing and he had no idea what he was doing but he was going to do it anyway. He washed his hands, drying them quickly. 

It was dark in the bedroom when he returned. Steve lay on the bed, on top of the blankets. He looked up when Bucky entered, his hands at his sides. Had he been touching himself before Bucky entered? There was another awkward beat but then Bucky went to turn on the bedside lamp. He found a clean towel, draping it over Steve’s crotch. 

“For your modesty,” he muttered. 

“Thanks,” said Steve with a slight chuckle. “But I think we’re well past that now.” His sea-blue eyes followed Bucky’s movements as he brought over the jar of petroleum jelly and the medical book. 

Bucky grinned. He made Steve turn around, so his head was at the foot of the bed, and bringing his ass closer to the light from the lamp. “Scoot up a little,” he said. 

Steve’s movements caused the towel to slip. Bucky adjusted it so Steve’s soft dick wasn’t right in Bucky’s face. The sight of it was distracting. Steve was watching him like a hawk, probably searching for any sign that Bucky was uncomfortable. 

He trailed a hand down Steve’s arm. They used to hold hands all the time when they were kids in the schoolyard, but that wasn’t something they did as young men. He wondered why, feeling a twinge of loss for the innocence of youth. He held Steve’s hand now, rubbing his thumb over Steve’s knuckles as their eyes met. Slowly, a smile stretched Steve’s lips. “What are you waiting for?” he challenged, but he squeezed Bucky’s hand to show his real meaning.

Bucky squeezed back before he let go. “Punk ass,” he muttered fondly, coaxing Steve to bend his knees. 

Steve did as asked, raising his legs and spreading them wide, feet flat on the bed. Bucky focused on Steve’s asshole, like a target. It was dusky pink. A blond, even down here, he thought. In this position, the towel didn’t cover Steve’s lightly furred balls. They looked vulnerable. 

Bucky felt a sudden strong urge to rub his face right up against Steve’s ball sack, rub it all over, wanting to breathe in his scent. The skin looked so soft and inviting, particularly around the puckered hole. Bucky’s dick thickened. He could feel it bulge, trapped in his trousers, even though he’d come not that long ago. Did he want to press his face up against Steve’s ball sack because he suddenly found men attractive or because this was _Steve_? 

Maybe that was a question for another day. 

His hands shook a little, and his heart felt like it might jump right out of his chest, but Bucky took a quiet breath and, spreading Steve’s butt cheeks with one hand, he lightly touched around the rim of the hole with the other. The skin was soft, velvety. Steve inhaled.

The last time Bucky had touched Steve there, he had been almost unconscious with fever. It was definitely a different experience with Steve mostly healthy, awake, and aware. 

With a dab of jelly, he circled over Steve’s hole. He could feel the tension in Steve’s body, waiting for him to enter. But Bucky took his time. He wasn’t going to be rough. “Easy,” he said, circling the hole again and again. 

He got a little more jelly, then he looked up as he pushed his forefinger in, just the tip. There was an electric moment as their eyes met. Steve made a soft noise. He was tight and hot around Bucky’s finger. Bucky withdrew, circled around the hole, then pressed in again up to his second knuckle. Steve’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, mouth falling open. He bore down onto Bucky’s finger. The towel moved as Steve’s dick hardened. 

Bucky withdrew again. The book said to use two fingers. He scooped up more jelly, using two fingers to circle around Steve’s hole, then pressing in. Steve grunted, and Bucky felt his lower back tighten with the sound. 

He counted to ten, waiting for Steve to relax. Gently, he crooked his fingers, not pressing too hard. The book said the gland was the size of a walnut. At first, Bucky didn’t think he’d found it, but as he massaged the area, he felt the hard knot of the gland appear. Steve shuddered. 

“That’s it,” said Bucky, pleased with himself. “I think I found it. How does that feel?” He pressed in again. 

Steve’s body jumped. He made a noise, deep in his throat. “Um…it’s…” Bucky circled both fingers in one direction. Steve bore down again, licking his lips. “It tingles,” he said. 

The spot inside Steve grew bigger, more defined. The towel barely hid Steve’s erection. 

He didn’t think the purpose of a prostate massage was to get Steve off, but that was definitely what was going to happen unless Bucky stopped, and he couldn’t imagine stopping now, leaving Steve hanging like this. 

Suddenly, he wanted to see Steve come. He needed to see it. He got rid of the towel and wrapped his hand around the base of Steve’s cock, fingers combing through Steve’s crinkly hair. Steve grunted, making more incomprehensible noises. His cock rose at an angle away from his belly. Bucky didn’t stop massaging Steve’s prostate, marveling at how hot he felt, at how tight, wondering how that tightness might feel around his dick. He pressed up again, crooking his fingers, rewarded when Steve’s cock pulsed in his hand, flexing on its own. A drop of pearly liquid fell from the tip.

“Not so small everywhere, huh Stevie,” said Bucky, examining the size of Steve’s fully erect dick. The foreskin was pulled back revealing the head, a drop of come sliding down the side. Bucky’s cock might be bigger, but not by much. It made Bucky’s mouth water. 

Steve gasped slightly, in distress, arching his back. He started fucking himself on Bucky’s fingers, in and out.

“It’s okay, pal,” said Bucky, shifting on the bed, getting closer. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it right. “I’ve got you.”

Steve’s eyes met his, and Bucky lost himself for a moment among those freckles and those sea-blue eyes. Steve was fisting the bedsheets, squirming from the sensation, but he reached for Bucky, sliding a hand over the tense muscles of Bucky’s arm. With just a light pressure, he instructed Bucky to loosen his grip. Steve didn’t want a tight hold on his cock. Bucky circled the tip, spreading the wetness, and Steve bit his lip with another soft sound. 

Bucky drummed his fingers against Steve’s prostate. Steve’s mouth opened, gasping, and his body went rigid. His dick hardened even more and then spasmed. He came, falling apart in Bucky’s hands. Steve’s hole squeezed tight around Bucky’s two fingers even as he thrust up.

There wasn’t a lot of come, but Steve’s orgasm seemed to go on for a long time as he pulsed and shuddered. And goddamn if the sight of Steve coming wasn’t something beautiful. 

Bucky found himself petting Steve, crooning to him. His spunk-covered hand trailed up Steve’s chest to cup his face, to hold and caress him. “Look at you,” he said. “So good. You’re so good, Steve. You flyin’ Stevie? You feelin’ good?” 

Steve turned toward Bucky’s caress, panting with his chest rising and falling as he returned down to earth, shivering a little. Bucky pressed a thumb to Steve’s lips. Steve reached for him, uncoordinated, with little to no strength as he regained his equilibrium. He licked his lips, licking Bucky’s thumb as well. 

Bucky’s dick was so hard he thought he was going to come in his pants. He was almost blind with arousal, but he forced himself to be gentle, to pet Steve through the high of his orgasm. Steve’s glazed eyes met his. They were tangled together on the bed, with Bucky half sitting up, half draped over Steve. He recognized the moment when Steve became aware of his surroundings again. “Hi,” he said, fondly. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Steve blinked. He rose up onto one elbow, looking dazedly around, first at the dollop of come on his stomach and his soft cock lying on his thigh, then he looked to the rest of the room, remembering where he was, then finally at Bucky again. Bucky held his breath, not knowing what Steve was going to do next. Steve frowned as he studied Bucky, and then he looked down at Bucky’s crotch. 

Steve swallowed. “What about you?” he asked. 

“What about me?” answered Bucky, but his cock was so hard it was hurting. 

“Bucky, take it out,” said Steve. 

“What?” Bucky’s brain wouldn’t engage. 

“Just take it out.” Steve reached to undo Bucky’s trousers, then unbuttoned his underpants, pushing both down to free his cock. 

“Really?” asked Bucky, but he stopped arguing as Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky’s cock. “Fuck, Steve,” he said, his head bowing as pleasure coursed through his body. “Yeah. Please, please.” He turned toward Steve. “That feels so good.”

“Come here,” said Steve, wrapping an arm around Bucky, pulling him in close. Bucky nuzzled into the warmth at Steve’s neck, gasping, thrusting into his hand. It wasn’t going to take long, he was so close already. All he could do was hang on. But he raised a hand to cup Steve’s face. They looked at each other, and Bucky passed a thumb over those pale freckles, then pressed his cheek against Steve’s and breathed in the scent of his clean hair. He came with a shuddered groan, holding Steve hard enough to bruise.

~*~

They were quiet with each other after, not quite knowing how to be as they cleaned up. The silence between them was deafening. Bucky had to get ready to meet Dot. She was a swell gal and they always had a great time together, but he suddenly wanted to stay home with Steve, maybe sit out on the fire escape again, talking all night long. He was buzzing from his orgasm, and could still feel the languid heat of it. Though he’d washed his hands after, with his back to Steve as he dressed, he raised the two fingers that had been inside Steve and rested them against his lips.

“Will you come out with me?” he asked without turning to look at Steve as he dressed. “We’re going dancing.” 

Bucky couldn’t say it out loud but he didn’t want to leave Steve. Not after what they just shared. But Steve didn’t answer, so Bucky had to turn around to look at him. Steve was on his bed, dressed in his robe – a sharp reminder that he was naked under there – staring at Bucky with an unreadable expression. 

Bucky felt his throat close up, suddenly a little scared. He didn’t like it when he couldn’t tell what Steve was thinking. “We’re okay, right, Steve?” he asked.

Steve blinked, a crease forming between his brows. There was a beat of silence while Bucky’s heart pounded in his chest with fear. But then Steve’s expression softened. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

Tension left Bucky and he sighed with relief because Steve would never lie to him. “That’s good. I couldn’t handle it if we weren’t.”

“Me neither,” answered Steve. Then, after a moment, he spoke again. “You go and have a good time. I think I’ll stay home.”

Bucky took a step closer. He felt like everything was different between them but at the same time, it was like nothing had changed. He was going to insist Steve come out with him dancing, but the stubborn look on Steve’s face changed his mind. 

“All right,” he said, laying a hand on Steve’s shoulder, giving him a friendly pat on the face to show his affection. But Steve’s freckles teased him, and without really thinking about it, Bucky trailed those same two fingers over Steve’s pouting lower lip. 

A curious, searching look entered Steve’s eyes again, but he didn’t turn away or pull back. Bucky forced himself to let go or else he’d never leave. The tension in the room lingered but then slowly returned back to something like normal as Bucky finished dressing and Steve got out his sketchbook.

~*~

The week passed slowly, and they both acted like nothing had changed. But the truth was that Bucky woke up every morning and the first thing he thought of was the expression on Steve’s face when he came and the way his dick felt in Bucky’s hand when it shot off. It made his own dick hard just thinking about it and sometimes he had to go someplace private to take care of it, even if it was just to roll over in bed, his back to the rest of the room, fist wrapped around his cock. It was easier at night when he could be certain Steve was asleep. Bucky took his dick out and rubbed at it until he came.

When Friday rolled around again, he and Steve ate dinner in their tiny kitchen, the window open to let the breeze in, the radio playing a song. A pressure was building inside Bucky, and he didn’t wait any longer. 

“I think we should do it again,” he said, blurting it out.

“Do what again?” asked Steve. All week Bucky had caught Steve looking at him like Bucky was a crossword puzzle in the newspaper and Steve couldn’t figure out what number ten across was. 

“You know, the thing,” said Bucky. He rolled his eyes at Steve’s blank stare. “The massage thing.”

Steve turned the color of a tomato. “Oh,” he said, eyes cast down. Bucky was prepared for Steve to say no, and he had all of his reasons lined up and ready to go. But Steve raised his eyes again and said, “Okay.”

Stunned, Bucky’s mouth fell open. “Thought you’d argue and I’d have to threaten to spring Nurse Fredricks on you.”

Steve grinned but shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

Bucky sat up straight, instantly relieved. God, he was such an idiot. He should have just come out and talked to Steve about it from the beginning. “Really? So have I! You should have said something.”

Steve folded his arms across his chest. “And say what? Hey, Buck, I kind of liked it when you had your fingers up my backside. We should do it again.”

“Yes,” said Bucky with an enthusiastic nod. They both stared at each other and then dissolved into fits of giggles at the same time. 

When they finally got a hold of themselves, Steve frowned at him. “So. You want to do it right now? Tonight?”

Bucky did want to, very much, but he had plans to take Dot out again later and he didn’t want a repeat of last week’s awkwardness when he had to leave and Steve refused to go with him. “I’ve got no plans tomorrow,” he offered. 

Steve had that unreadable expression again, but one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “All right.”

They finished their dinner, while Bucky filled the buckets with water for their baths. Afterward, they kept to their tradition of sitting out on the fire escape for a few minutes while the sun set. He didn’t have oranges to share this time but he did have an apple, and he handed Steve a slice, watching him eat it as he sketched in his notebook. 

“Will you come out with me tonight?” asked Bucky. 

Steve set his pencil down. He was sitting in his usual spot across from Bucky on the metal railing, wearing just his sleeveless undershirt. The freckles were out in full force. “You really want me to?” 

Bucky nodded. He wished he could draw as good as Steve did, so he could draw him at this moment. But he doubted even Steve’s talent could capture what Bucky felt in his heart as he watched how the sun’s warm light faded over them both in the magic hour, watching the way Steve shrugged as he agreed to go out with him, watching the way he held his pencil and started drawing again. 

After the sun went down, they got ready to go, but something was off inside of Bucky. He suddenly wished he’d canceled his plans with Dot and stayed home with Steve instead. But they picked her up and then headed for the dance hall. He had fun, working up a good sweat while dancing. The hall was too warm, and he drank too much too fast too early in the evening. Before he knew it he was drunk. Needing air, he left the dance hall before he threw up. Dot and Steve followed him. Dot was very kind and patient, but Bucky could tell she wasn’t pleased with him. 

“What’s got into him?” Bucky heard Dot ask Steve when he staggered off to be sick in an alley. 

“It’s been a long week,” said Steve, after a pause. “We can walk you home?” he offered. 

The brick wall felt cool against Bucky’s cheek while the world swirled around him. He almost threw up but he manfully managed to keep it down. He groaned as his stomach turned over, and knew he shouldn’t have had that last drink. Too late now, he thought, squinting down the dark alley to see Steve and Dot together. 

“I’m all right,” he managed to call out, but he thought it came out incomprehensible. He staggered back down the alley to Steve but Dot was walking away with a group of her friends. “Aw man,” Bucky grumbled. 

Steve patted him on his back. “May have lost your chance there. She said she’d manage to get herself home, and hoped you feel better tomorrow.”

Bucky slumped against Steve. “Take me home.”

“Okay,” said Steve, putting his shoulder under Bucky’s to take some of his weight. They managed a weaving path back to their building. 

Bucky’s head began to clear with the cool night air, and by the time they got home he felt better. But he liked having Steve guide him, liked having his hands on him as they went up the stairs to their apartment. Inside, Steve poured him a glass water and they washed their faces and brushed their teeth before getting undressed. 

“I wanna sleep with you,” said Bucky, leaning into Steve’s shoulder because he lost his balance when he was taking off his trousers, letting Steve do most of the work unbuttoning his shirt. “Sleep in bed,” he added, to clarify. It was something they used to do as kids all the time.

“You have your own bed,” said Steve, though he seemed more amused than put out. 

“I know. But I like the way you smell.” Steve quirked his eyebrows at Bucky, holding his head still for a moment as they stared at each other. He looked like he was going to say no. Bucky might like the way Steve smelled but Steve probably didn’t think the same in return. Right then Bucky smelled like a whiskey distillery. He leaned into Steve more, laying his head down on Steve’s shoulder, breathing in. Instantly, the tension he’d been carrying all evening bled out of him. “Please,” he begged. 

Steve sighed, but didn’t deny him, and then even held him in his arms tenderly, like a lover. The next thing Bucky knew, Steve had managed to get him undressed down to his underpants and rolled him into bed. Steve climbed in next to him and Bucky was asleep, his nose tucked into the crook of Steve’s neck, before he even realized it. 

The need to pee woke him in the morning. Though slightly hungover, he carefully left the warmth of their bed to piss in the bucket they’d set up so they didn’t have to go down the hall to the communal toilet. Then, he got back into bed, snuggling against Steve. 

It was pleasantly cool in their bedroom at that time of the morning, the heat of the day still a few hours away. They rearranged themselves comfortably, arms around each other. Bucky drifted back to sleep but he later woke again, realizing that Steve’s hand was caressing through his hair. 

“You’re awake,” said Bucky, his voice thick with sleep. Steve’s hand paused. “Don’t stop.”

Steve resumed petting, and Bucky nestled deeper against him, shifting slightly so he could return the favor, and they lay side by side in each other’s arms, caressing each other’s hair. Bucky was in no hurry to do anything else but his dick was hard, and he could feel the tip of Steve’s dick pressing into his hip. He sat up and their eyes met. 

“Morning,” he said. 

Steve’s lips turned up in a smile. “How are you feeling?” 

“Just dandy,” answered Bucky. “Thanks for getting me home.”

With that same fond, tender smile, Steve tugged on a lock of Bucky’s hair. “No problem. Are we done cuddling?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nope.” He looked down Steve’s body, pushing the bed sheet out of his way, revealing Steve’s chest, his underpants, his legs. Bucky moved to the end of the bed. “I want to do it.”

Steve rose up onto his elbows. “Now? Bucky, it can’t be past nine in the morning.”

“So? What does that matter?” Bucky wanted to see Steve, see that most private intimate part of him, in the full glorious light of morning. He began to unbutton Steve’s underpants, wiggling them off his hips. “Tell me you want to stop.”

But Steve didn’t tell him that. He blushed something fierce, pink from his cheeks all the way down his neck and then down his chest, but he didn’t stop Bucky, lifting his hips up to get his underpants off. “If I’m going to be naked at this time of the day then it’s only fair that you’re naked too,” said Steve. 

Bucky paused, considering this. “Okay,” he agreed, shoving down his own already unbuttoned underpants, quickly kicking them off. “Fair is fair.”

Steve immediately dropped his gaze to Bucky’s cock, half erect and bobbing up and down in front of him as he shifted around, trying to get comfortable. Knowing Steve was looking made his cock twitch. He realized he needed the jar of petroleum jelly and he had to get out of the bed naked to search around for it. Steve didn’t stop watching him the entire time. 

“By the dresser,” said Steve, twisting around to point. 

“Why’d you put it there?” grumbled Bucky, hopping over to find it. 

“So it wouldn’t get lost,” answered Steve. 

With the jar in hand, Bucky climbed back into bed, shifting to kneel between Steve’s bare legs. They clearly weren’t going to bother with a modesty towel this time. Steve was flat on his back, watching him, his cock resting against his upper thigh, one knee bent. Bucky fought the urge to bend down and take each of Steve’s balls into his mouth. He began to sweat a little. 

Taking a deep breath, he opened the jar of jelly, coating two fingers. He inched closer, raising Steve’s legs up, looking for his hole. Knowing what to expect this time, he watched the way Steve’s cock moved as Bucky circled the hole with two fingers, pressing in just slightly. 

With his other hand, he caressed the skin between Steve’s balls and hole. There was a word for it, and it floated up from the recesses of Bucky’s brain, remembering the diagram in the medical book: perineum. Steve’s breathing deepened, his cock shifting as it grew thicker and longer, the head peeking out from the foreskin. God, Bucky wanted to lean forward and take the tip into his mouth. He wanted to suck on it. 

Bucky massaged Steve both inside and out until he had two fingers buried deep into Steve’s hole. Steve was taking deep breaths, undulating slightly on Bucky’s fingers, fucking himself in shallow movements, in and out. Bucky circled the swollen gland with pressure – not too hard, but gently, gently. Steve’s cock rose up, fully erect, the head leaking pre-come down the side in a steady stream. What a sight. 

“Look at you. You’re damn beautiful, Steve. You’re gorgeous,” said Bucky, overwhelmed and mesmerized. His own dick was leaking, too, hot and throbbing between his legs

Steve’s eyes latched onto his, hazy with lust and pleasure, cheeks flushed. When he dropped his gaze to Bucky’s cock, he licked his plump lips, making them wet. “Want to touch you,” he said. 

It was tempting, but Bucky shook his head. “You do that and I won’t be able to concentrate on you. Just let me do this,” he said, curling his fingers, watching as Steve groaned. “I want to make you come.”

“Bucky,” cried Steve, his hips moving faster, bearing down harder. Bucky made his fingers stiff, letting Steve work his own ass. Steve’s cock continued leaking. Bucky took hold of the base, lightly touching up the shaft to spread the come around, circling the head. “I’m gonna….I’m…” cried Steve.

Steve arched and came. There were three big spurts of come onto Steve’s belly, a little more volume than last time, but the orgasm itself went on for maybe another thirty long seconds, shuddering through Steve’s frame as he jerked and spasmed, gasping. 

Desperate now, Bucky withdrew his fingers and then crawled up to lie next to Steve, burying his nose into the sweet warmth of Steve’s neck as he rutted frantically against his side, trying to get off. As Steve recovered after his orgasm, he wrapped his arms around Bucky. Bucky thrust up against the hard bone of Steve’s hip, grateful for the friction, grunting as he found his release at last. 

They lay silent in each other’s arms, sticky with come all over their stomachs. They didn’t move or speak as their fast-beating hearts returned to normal.

~*~

They did it again the next night. It became part of their ritual: dinner, a bath, sitting on the fire escape, then naked and in bed with Bucky between Steve’s legs, his fingers inside Steve’s hole, pressing gently into that magic spot.

Bucky caressed all along the back of Steve’s balls as he massaged, then all along the sweet pink skin of the perineum. He curled his fingers in a “come here” gesture, right over the spot, watching as Steve’s dick jumped each time, come dripping down into a pool on his belly. There was more of it. Each time there was more. 

Steve’s orgasm seemed to go on for a solid minute, long past when the last of the come fell onto his stomach, as he twitched and jerked, thrusting blinding, head thrown back. 

After Steve regained his senses, he pushed until Bucky lay back on his elbows, then he leaned in and took Bucky’s cock into his mouth. 

“Oh fu….” The swear got swallowed and lost as Bucky’s brain shorted out, watching Steve’s lips stretch around the head of his cock, then he took it deep into his throat. The wet heat, the swirl of Steve’s tongue around the shaft and the head and around the ridge, the constriction from the muscles of his throat. Bucky thrust into Steve’s mouth and Steve took it. 

He was shocked that Steve was doing this but so grateful for it, drowning in the heavenly sensation. Bucky couldn’t speak, though he tried with incomprehensible half-spoken jumbled up curse words, made-up nonsense. It wasn’t his first blowjob, but looking down and seeing Steve’s plump lips wrapped around his cock melted his spine.

“Steve,” he said, a hand reaching out, landing in that mop of blond hair. It was the only warning he could give as he felt the tug on his balls, his orgasm coming from the heels of his feet as he thrust and thrust, coming hard. 

He came in Steve’s mouth, but also all over his face, all over those freckles. He tried to apologize but he couldn’t get air in his lungs. They lay tangled together, regaining breath.

Neither spoke when Bucky fumbled around to find a towel, taking hold of Steve’s face as he wiped the come off.

~*~

They couldn’t do it _every_ day, as much as Bucky wanted to. But Steve’s ass needed a break. That didn’t mean that Bucky didn’t get hard several times just thinking about it, remembering how he’d come in Steve’s mouth, how he’d come on Steve’s face.

He was sure Steve knew how often Bucky was jerking off, but they didn’t talk about it. In the mornings, Bucky went to work at the docks and Steve picked up a few days work doing inventory for an import warehouse. In the evenings, they sat on the fire escape, enjoying the summer evenings and sharing whatever treat they managed to get their hands on: two small apple tarts old Mrs. Wheeler gave Bucky, three bruised apricots on sale at the greengrocers, a small box of strawberries that Steve’s employer gave him as extra pay. 

But they couldn’t last all week without doing it. Or at least, Bucky couldn’t. By Thursday, Bucky was so turned on thinking about Steve on his back with Bucky’s fingers inside of him, thinking of his come on Steve’s face, that he was about to explode. After dinner, they sat on the fire escape, as usual, enjoying the cooler evening air, neither one of them doing much talking. Steve was sketching in his book and Bucky was watching him. It didn’t take much for his cock to get hard, pressing into his pants. The outline of it was visible, and he wanted to jerk off right there while Steve sat across from him and sketched in his book. 

“Steve,” he managed, voice strangled. Their eyes met. Bucky couldn’t speak, too embarrassed to ask for what he wanted, but he pressed his palm against the bulge in his pants. 

He thought Steve would blush or that his eyes would go round, or maybe he’d duck his head, ashamed. But he didn’t do any of those things. Steve breathed in and out slowly, holding Bucky’s gaze until he lowered them down to Bucky’s crotch. “Take it out,” he said. 

Bucky groaned, looking briefly around to make sure no one was looking out a window. He unzipped and unbuttoned, sighing in relief when he took his cock out. He hiked up his shirt, out of the way. 

“Touch yourself,” said Steve. 

Sparks ran up Bucky’s spine. He’d never heard that tone in Steve’s voice before – not only commanding but also infused with languid heat. Steve wanted to see him jerk off. Bucky began lightly trailing his fingers up and down his cock. It felt so good. 

Steve watched him, licking his lips, turning to a fresh page of his notebook. He began to sketch again. Bucky’s cock hardened even more, a drop of come sliding down, knowing that Steve was drawing him like this. Drawing him with his cock out. He slid his hand up and down.

Bucky tried to breathe deeply, watching Steve as he drew, his hand moving faster. He heard the scratching of Steve’s pencil over paper. He reached under and grabbed his balls, cupping them. 

“Fuck, Steve,” he managed, his only warning before his balls tightened and his cock pulsed, wave after wave of come released over his chest and stomach. He made another strangled noise, gasping, his vision darkening. 

As light and sound came back to him he looked up to see Steve still holding his notebook but he’d stopped drawing, eyes locked onto him. Bucky caught his breath, holding his slowly softening cock. Steve stood up. He wore an undershirt and a loose pair of trousers, but Bucky could see the outline of his erection pressing against the front. Without a word, Steve climbed back into the apartment through the window, taking his notebook with him. 

When he was sure he could stand without falling, Bucky hiked his pants back up, ignoring the mess on his stomach, and followed Steve inside. In the bedroom, Steve was bending over, taking off his trousers, hopping from foot to foot until he was totally naked. With a look at Bucky, he stood up straight. His cock jutted out -- the sight of it made Bucky sweat. Steve went to lie on the bed, knees raised. 

Arousal surged through Bucky even though he’d just come hard. He couldn’t get it up again so quickly but his cock didn’t know that and it twitched. He just might get hard again, he thought, seeing Steve draped over the bed, fully erect dick standing up, his knees wide and open. 

Bucky found the jar of petroleum jelly, pausing only long enough to pick up Steve’s notebook. He turned to the final sketch. It was rough and unfinished, but also raw and needy and desperate and in just those few lines of charcoal, Steve had captured everything that was in Bucky’s heart. 

“You sure got talent,” he said, breaking the silence as he closed the notebook and set it back down on the dresser.

“I can never show that to anyone,” said Steve, but his kind eyes said a lot more, watching Bucky. God, he loved this kid. Bucky’s heart was full of love for him. 

He tossed the jar onto the bed, then took off his undershirt and trousers, wiping the come off his belly as he wiggled out of his underpants, until he was as naked as Steve, climbing onto the bed. Bucky ran his hands up and down the smooth skin of the back of Steve’s thighs – almost hairless here, he thought. He soothed his fingers further down, circling around the puckered hole. 

Finally, he gave into the urge he’d been fighting against since they’d started this whole thing and bent down to rub his face against the soft skin of Steve’s ball sack -- his nose, his cheeks, his lips, all over the most private parts of Steve’s body. He kissed around Steve’s hole, licking, tonguing. 

Steve made a strangled noise. “Buck. What are you doing?”

“What I want to do,” he answered, spreading Steve’s butt cheeks even more so he could really get in there, mouthing all over the area, licking and tasting, eating him out like he was a girl. 

Steve writhed as Bucky firmly held his legs apart and took his time. But Steve was moving so much he ended up shifting onto his hands and knees, face planted down, moaning into the bedsheets, butt up in the air, his legs wide as Bucky ate him out from behind. 

Bucky didn't forget what they were supposed to be doing, though, and he grabbed the jar of jelly, quickly coating two fingers. It was easier, actually, from this position, and he wondered why they hadn’t tried it yet. He pushed his fingers in as he sucked on Steve’s balls, swirling his tongue around one ball and then the other and then back again. 

At this rate, Steve wasn’t going to last long. Bucky massaged around Steve’s prostate, mouthing his balls, then licking down the shaft of Steve’s dick. Steve undulated, panting and thrusting into air, clenching around Bucky’s fingers. He yelled as he came. Bucky caught some of his come, tasting it for the first time, shimmying under to taste more just as Steve collapsed. 

Bucky would complain that Steve was suffocating him but he was enjoying it too much. Gently, he shifted Steve to the side. Steve was trying to reach for him. They were both lying down with their head on the wrong end of the bed but that hardly mattered. Blindly, his head still buried in the bedsheets, Steve pulled him close, petting his face and chest. Bucky rolled toward him. 

“Are you hard again?” asked Steve, skimming his hand down Bucky’s chest to his stomach, and then to his cock. 

Bucky grunted in acknowledgment. He was hard. Bucky almost hadn’t noticed that he’d gotten hard again. He nestled closer to Steve, pressing his lips into his neck, panting as Steve jerked him off, holding him close.

~*~

The rest of the week went quickly. They were shorthanded at the docks but he didn’t mind – he and Steve could always use the money. The work made him tired enough that when he came home he didn’t even have the energy to jerk off at night, collapsing into bed after dinner and sleeping the entire night through.

He and Steve slept in the same bed now. They hadn’t even discussed it. It was just natural. Every morning he woke with Steve tucked up against his side.

Though tired from work, on Friday Bucky still wanted to go dancing. There was that club in Manhattan he’d wanted to go to. He hadn’t been dancing in a few weeks – not since that night with Dot – and Bucky was feeling that itch. 

He begged Steve to go out with him. “Please?” he asked. They were on the fire escape again. Bucky crossed the small landing until he stood before Steve who was sitting on the steps. He went down on his knees to beg. “Steve, come with me. I don’t want to go without you.”

Steve frowned but with amusement. He rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Jerk. Can’t even go to the dance hall by yourself.”

Bucky whooped in triumph. He stood back up again, leaning against the bars of the fire escape while Steve grinned up at him. Then, Steve’s eyes dropped to Bucky’s crotch, right at eye level. They grew silent, though the noise of Brooklyn came in from all sides. Steve slowly raised his eyes to meet Bucky’s. The moment pulsed with heat and want and in an instant Bucky’s cock went from soft to hard. He hadn’t touched himself since the last time. His dick was suddenly thick. Aching. 

With his thumb, he touched Steve’s plump bottom lip, gazing down at those freckles across the bridge of his nose. They’d fade over the winter but it was still summer now. 

Without a word between them, Steve unbuttoned Bucky’s pants, pushing the underpants down. This was the second time they’d done something like this on the fire escape. It wasn’t exactly private, but there was no one around. Bucky’s cock sprang free. Barely taking a breath, Steve took hold of it and then licked at the tip. Bucky made a small noise in the back of his throat, and then made another, more desperate sound when Steve took him all the way down his throat. 

Bucky cupped Steve’s head, his fingers grabbing a handful of hair, but gently. He thrust into Steve’s mouth. They heard voices from somewhere down the alley. Anyone could look up. 

He mumbled a curse, lost in the sensation and heat. Steve’s eyes met his again, his lips stretched around Bucky’s girth. Bucky spilled into Steve’s mouth, his orgasm rushing over him without warning, causing him to jerk and shudder, curling around Steve. 

Bucky pulled out, feeling the air on his wet dick. Steve had come spilling from his mouth, over his lips, down his chin. He swallowed, then wiped his mouth, and if Bucky could have come again right then he would have. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” he said, feeling the wonder of it. 

Steve frowned at him, still wiping his mouth. “Bucky,” he said, in a chastising tone. 

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. Using the Lord’s name in vain was a ‘no-no’ but not, apparently, sucking off your best friend while hanging out on the fire escape. “Come on, you punk,” said Bucky, fondly, pulling Steve in against his body while his pants were still around his legs, hugging him close and not caring who saw. 

They both got dressed in their nice suits, then took the train into Manhattan. It was past nine in the evening when they arrived at the nightclub. Men and women crowded the entrance, some of them smoking as music and light spilled out into the street. It was steamy warm inside, the bright lights and loud music immediately invading all of Bucky’s senses. He paid the entrance fee for himself and Steve, and they muscled their way to the bar. He let Steve buy the drinks. 

He surveyed the large room. The place was huge, so big it was difficult to see all the way to the other end through the sea of dancers. Women were being swung this way and that, their skirts flying. And all the way around the dance floor the onlookers huddled at tables. 

It didn’t take long before he caught the eye of a pretty brunette. But he hesitated, looking at Steve. He had to raise his voice to be heard. “You going to be okay?” he asked. 

Steve, noticing the brunette making eyes at Bucky, straightened to his full height and waved Bucky on. “Go. I know you want to.”

Bucky grinned, bringing Steve in close for a quick shoulder hug. Steve tucked in right under Bucky’s chin. 

The dancing was great. Just what he needed, to lose himself in swing and motion. He danced with a lot of girls, not even asking their names sometimes, and catching sight of Steve hanging out by the wall. He kept hoping Steve would get up the courage to ask a girl to dance – there were many standing around the outside of the dance floor – but whenever Bucky sought him out he found Steve nursing his drink, tapping his foot to the music, watching the activity all around them. 

In the wee hours of the morning, the dancing thinned out enough that one could actually see the true size of the hall. It was a big, echoey place, about two times bigger than the dance hall in Brooklyn. He found Steve and went to lean against the wall beside him, catching his breath. 

“Did you have a good time?” asked Steve.

“I’d have a better time if you got out there and danced. At least once.” Steve ducked his head, slightly flushed, either due to the heat or from his being so shy. Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. “Come on. Just one dance.”

Steve pulled back but still let himself be dragged. He was looking around, but no one paid them much attention. “Bucky no, I’ll look like an idiot.” 

“Trust me. No one’s going to care,” he said. 

And it was true. No one did care. Maybe they got a few looks but it was almost two in the morning, and the band only had a couple more songs in them. Bucky grinned, swinging Steve around, enjoying the look of concentration on Steve’s face because he was thinking about his feet too much. He swung Steve out and then back in. At one point, Steve looked up at him with such an incandescent smile that it lit Bucky up from the inside. He didn’t know it then, but the memory of that smile would get him through some tough times ahead.

They were among the last to leave the hall. Steve was still dancing, trying out his moves as they walked down the street. Bucky laughed at him but they were both happy. Even if Steve had stayed by the wall almost the entire evening too shy to ask a girl to dance, the night had ended well. At that hour, they had to wait for the train to Brooklyn, but it eventually came. Steve fell asleep slumped beside him, his head on Buck’s shoulder, with the clickity-clack of the train noisy all around them. 

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” said Bucky, gently patting Steve’s cheek as the train reached their stop. Those long pale lashes fluttered open: sea-blue eyes, freckles, plump full bottom lip. Earlier that night Steve had had those lips wrapped around Bucky’s dick. A twang of something reverberated all through Bucky, and he suddenly couldn’t wait to get Steve home. 

It was past four in the morning when they finally lay down in their bed, stripped down to their underpants, nestled together like a pair of comas with Bucky burying his nose into the warmth at Steve’s neck. They were asleep before he could count to three. 

When he woke again, sometime in the late morning on Saturday, Steve was sitting up in bed with his notebook, sketching. Bucky stretched, got up to go piss, then came back to snuggle in beside Steve, peeking at the sketches. Steve had drawn the dancers from the night before. 

“Do one of the two of us dancing,” he asked, voice creaky with morning disuse.

Steve shook his head. “I can’t draw myself.”

“What? Why not?”

“I don’t know. It’s difficult. I can’t observe myself the way I can you or anyone else,” said Steve. 

“Hm,” acknowledged Bucky. He guessed he hadn’t ever thought about it, but then he wasn’t an artist like Steve. He wasn’t constantly observing everything, taking note of the details like Steve did. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do. I know how you see me. In your drawings. I wish I could do the same for you.”

Steve’s pencil stopped. Then he tucked it into the crease and closed the book, setting it down, and turning to lie on his side facing Bucky. They stared at each other, unusually solemn, as Steve raised a hand to brush at Bucky’s hair. 

All the previous times, starting with the first time Bucky went between Steve’s legs, it had been Bucky pushing for it, asking for it, wanting it more than Steve did. Or so it seemed. But this time, Steve traced a finger over Bucky’s lips, then trailed down his arm to clasp his hand, bringing it toward his cock, then even lower, pressing Bucky’s fingers against his hole. 

Bucky’s reaction was instant, blood surging straight for his dick, heart pumping. They moved quickly, struggling out of both their underpants. Bucky reached under their pillows or the jar of petroleum jelly, learning from the previous times to keep it close by. Steve was already on his back, legs up in the air and parted, his cock hard. 

“Jesus,” said Bucky, earning another glare from Steve but Bucky paid no mind. He stared at Steve, at that sweet ball sack that made his mouth water, so turned on his fingers fumbled the jar, trying to take a deep breath. 

He didn’t waste any more time, rubbing all around Steve’s hole, dipping his finger in and out and in and out. Raised up on his elbows to watch, Steve’s eyes seemed to glow, his breath deepening, bearing down when Bucky went in. He made a small noise of appreciation the first time Bucky swiped his prostate, eyes rolling to the back of his head, head falling back. What a goddamn sight he was. 

Steve’s dick began to leak, moving on its own accord each time Bucky circled Steve’s prostate with little pulses. 

“Steve,” he said, with his fingers buried deep inside Steve, hooked into him. But Bucky was shaking inside, overwhelmed. “Steve I want to put my dick inside you. Want to massage you with my dick. I want to. I want to so bad.”

Steve’s eyes snapped open and he lifted his head up. They stared at each other, connected through Bucky’s hand. “You ever done that before? With…with a girl?”

Bucky licked his lips and shook his head no. “Go in the back way? No, never done that. Plenty of other stuff but not that. Almost once, but she changed her mind.”

A crease formed between Steve’s eyes. “So your first time doing this would be with me?” 

The muscles at Bucky’s lower back tightened. His heart thumped. “Yes.”

Steve’s eyes held his. It seemed an important moment. Perhaps they were crossing a line, but right then Bucky didn’t much care. He just wanted to be inside Steve. He just wanted to bury his dick inside him. 

Steve nodded. “Okay,” he said, with almost no sound. 

Silently, with Steve’s eyes never leaving his face, Bucky slicked up a third finger, pressing all three into Steve, moving them in and out. He did that until Steve gripped his wrist, pulling Bucky even closer, telling him without words he was ready.

Bucky shook all over as he grabbed his dick, slicked it up good all the way around the shaft and around the head, and then he aimed it at Steve’s hole. They locked eyes. Steve took a deep breath, and then Bucky pushed in. 

Slick, so tight he had to stop. The pleasure was already too much, he was going to come. Bucky bent forward, breaching the hole.

Steve’s mouth fell open as he arched and bore down, gasping. Bucky saw stars as his dick slid in, all the way to the root. Fuck, Steve was tight. So tight. He pressed his forehead against Steve’s and they breathed noisily into each other’s mouth as he hiked Steve’s leg over his, and pushed in again. He swore, the grip on his cock making him shudder, lost in the sensation of Steve completely surrounding him from all sides, from everywhere. All of him. His entire being.

“Steve, Steve,” he said, mumbling, starting to thrust, that tight ring sliding up and down his cock. “Fuck, you feel so good. Oh God.” He was dimly aware that he was not actually hitting Steve’s prostate. “Shit…” he said. “I’m not going to…” Thrusting and thrusting. “I can’t…”

Steve’s arms came around him. “Don’t stop,” he said, gripping Bucky’s hair tight so they had to look at each other. Again, that sensation of being surrounded by Steve, inside and out, and Bucky lost it. He grabbed Steve’s hips and fucked into him over and over again, that tight grip on his cock bringing intense pleasure, sparks up and down his spine, behind his eyes, fucking into him until he came, yelling, buried deep, spasming. It went on for several seconds. 

Slowly, Bucky’s reality reformed, and he became aware of his softening dick sliding out of Steve, of Steve’s arms holding him, gently carding through his hair. Bucky’s nose was buried in Steve’s neck, breathing in his scent. Bucky kissed Steve’s neck. 

Steve turned to look at him and they shifted a little as Bucky completely slipped out and they lay side by side. He knew they were a mess. They needed to clean up, but he didn’t want to leave the bed just yet. 

A thought came to Bucky. “Did you go?” He tried looking down at Steve’s dick. It wasn’t hard and it didn’t look like he’d come.

“It’s all right,” said Steve. 

“Shit, Steve, I’m sorry,” he said, mortified. He classified himself as a better lover than that. 

“I said it’s all right,” said Steve, grabbing Bucky’s head between his hands, forcing Bucky to look at him. Steve looked thoughtful, and there was that crease between his brows. “I liked it.”

“But you didn’t go,” sighed Bucky, lying back down, hiding his face in Steve’s neck.

“You can make it up to me later. Bucky,” he said, lifting Bucky’s face. That same look was there: confusion, wonder, discovery…longing. “I liked it. I liked the…closeness. Feeling that close to you. I didn’t know it could be like that. Feel like that.”

Bucky softened all over and they lay comfortably in each other’s arms. He gazed with wonder at Steve, feeling such love for him. “Thank you,” he said. 

Steve gave him a lopsided grin. “Any time, pal.”

They laughed, stomachs pressing together, legs tangled. Steve’s eyes darkened as they fell silent. He leaned in just as Bucky lifted his chin up, and their lips met in a kiss. Their first kiss. Which seemed odd after everything they’d done. 

They parted, looked at each other, then kissed again, opening up. Bucky thought he might be Steve’s first kiss ever, and that made him moan as he tasted Steve with his tongue, wanting more. He wasn’t going to get it up again just yet, and Steve didn’t seem like he wanted that right then anyway, so they just lay together and learned to kiss each other, making out for hours.

~*~

Sunday rolled around, and both Steve and Bucky skipped church.

“Do we go to hell for this?” asked Bucky, kissing Steve. They lay in bed naked, having gone to bed naked. After fucking Steve the day before they hadn’t done much else besides neck and make out. They spent the day like that until night time.

Steve looked very serious, sitting up in bed beside him, frowning. “No,” he said, like he somehow knew for certain. 

Bucky was going to press for more, but then Steve pushed him flat on his back and straddled him. “If you say so,” said Bucky, grabbing both pillows to prop up his head. He wanted a proper view of whatever Steve as planning to do next.

“I do,” said Steve, so goddamn sure of himself that Bucky no longer had any doubt at all. Steve made himself comfortable sitting on Bucky’s legs, just below his crotch. He took hold of Bucky’s cock and began to jack him until he got hard. “Give me the jar.”

“Yes, sir,” said Bucky with a smirk, but obeyed immediately, already shaking in anticipation. Steve took a generous scoop of the jelly, spreading it over Bucky’s cock. Steve’s hand felt so good, but Bucky had to pace himself if he was going to last. Yet, he couldn’t help but pump into Steve’s slick grip, his cock head appearing and disappearing through Steve’s fingers. 

Steve took another scoop of the jelly, reaching behind to his hole. And wasn’t the sight of that just something else. Bucky grunted, feeling his dick harden even more. 

“Should I…?” he asked, making a gesture with the two fingers of his right hand, asking if Steve needed to be stretched. 

“No need,” said Steve with a quick shake of his head, and an entirely different sensation rippled through Bucky, realizing that Steve was in charge here. Perhaps he’d always been in charge. 

Steve inched closer, sitting right over Bucky’s dick, sliding their cocks together, spreading the slick all around. Bucky grunted, skimming his hands up Steve’s thighs. Steve took hold of Bucky’s cock, then widened his legs, aiming for his hole. Slowly, he sank down. The head popped in.

Tight pressure, slick and warm. It made Bucky sweat and he strove not to come from how incredible it felt, from how gorgeous Steve was as he grunted, rising up so he could sink down further, taking more of Bucky’s length inside him. They were both panting. Steve’s cock was half hard, wet at the tip, and Bucky wanted so bad to reach for him that his hands involuntarily gripped at Steve’s thighs, rubbing and petting as Steve took all of Bucky’s length inside of him. 

Steve groaned, beautifully, head falling to the side and back, eyes glazed and distant as he rocked on Bucky’s cock. He shivered from head to toe, jerking from a sudden sensation that was too intense. Come started leaking out of him, a constant drip pooling on Bucky’s stomach. Bucky was mesmerized. 

Then it clicked, though he should have realized it sooner, but Bucky’s brain wasn’t fully engaged. Steve was massaging his own prostate with Bucky’s dick, finding the right angle, and fucking himself. 

Bucky swallowed back a curse. His job here was to stay hard and to not come. Even though the tight ring of Steve’s hole around his cock made him see stars. 

They found a slow, steady rhythm, with Steve controlling how deep he went, rocking back and forth, and then up and down, shifting as needed to get the right angle. Bucky wondered if it was going to be enough, if Steve would be able to come like this. But he got his answer when Steve picked up the pace, fucking himself on Bucky’s cock, gasping as he shuddered all over, crying out. His ass clamped down so tight around Bucky’s cock that Bucky bit his lip to keep from coming. 

Like with the other times, Steve’s orgasm seemed to go on for a full minute, wave after wave as he shuddered. He came dry, only a little come leaking out of him. 

Bucky held Steve up, taking some of his weight but keeping his dick buried in Steve’s ass. “Tell me what you need. Tell me what you want,” he crooned.

Steve’s hooded, lust-filled, glazed sea-blue eyes lifted up to meet his. Freckles across the bridge of his nose. “Fuck me,” said Steve. “Hard.”

Something fierce surged through Bucky. He flipped their positions in bed and turned Steve over onto his stomach, raising his hips up. Steve’s hole was gaping open and still slick. Bucky swiped more jelly into him, not too rough but spreading it all around. 

He took his rock hard cock and pushed in all the way to the root. Steve yelled. “Yes. More!” 

Bucky fucked Steve, hard. Going fast, in and out, and this time he angled right into Steve’s prostate over and over again. Steve yelled into the bed, widening his legs, taking it, taking all Bucky could give. It was a blur of sweet fucking, of his orgasm building up through his body, and Bucky rode the edge for as long as he could. Until he felt Steve come, squeezing tight around Buck’s cock for a second time. Bucky yelled, grabbing Steve by his hips, slamming into him, collapsing as he came and came and came. His mind went blank with pure unadulterated pleasure, sobbing with release. 

It took a long time to come back from that one. They lay silent, catching their breaths. Bucky slowly remembered he had two legs and two arms. He lay half on Steve and half on the bed, his cock sliding out. Steve was twitching beside him, still coming down and lost in his orgasm. Bucky rolled closer. 

After more minutes passed, he said, “That was…” 

“Incredible,” answered Steve. It didn’t look like he was moving any time soon, but he reached blindly behind him until he grabbed Bucky’s hand, pulling him in closer to spoon behind him, and they fell asleep like that, mindless of the mess between them.

~*~

His first thought when he woke several hours later was, “Jeez. Who knew Steve could talk like that?” Just remembering how Steve looked when he said, “Fuck me,” made Bucky hard.

It was the middle of the night, and he would have to get up in a few hours for work. But he nosed Steve’s neck, planting kisses behind his ear, inhaling deeply. He needed to shave, and as he kissed Steve’s neck more, Steve squirmed from the sensation, shifting around so they lay face-to-face. 

He needed to taste Steve, kissing him, sucking on that bottom lip of his. Steve mumbled, “Not sure I can go again.”

Bucky made a noise as he shifted to suck on Steve’s neck. “Doesn’t matter,” he said, worshiping that space right under Steve’s chin. Bucky’s dick was rock hard, pressing into Steve’s hip. They grinned at each other, and then Bucky groaned as Steve reached between and began to stroke Bucky. 

Bucky closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of Steve giving him a hand job. Steve kissed his neck, the hollow of his throat, and kissed down his chest. Steve licked around Bucky’s left nipple, then sucked on it. Bucky’s cock surged forward, becoming even harder, leaking as Steve sucked on Bucky’s nipple and jacked him off at the same time. “Fuck. Steve,” he said, then made a strangled noise as he came, panting. 

“I guess you liked that,” said Steve with a smirk. 

Bucky chuckled, still catching his breath. “Come here, you jerk,” he said, cradling Steve, feeling that Steve was actually half hard. “Did you like it?” 

“What do you think?” asked Steve, instantly melting against him as Bucky gently caressed Steve’s slowly hardening cock.

“Did you like sucking on my tit, baby?” he asked. “It’s making you hard.” 

Steve groaned, mouthing around Bucky’s nipple again, fucking into Bucky’s loose grip. It didn’t take long before he grunted, coming onto Bucky’s belly. They fell asleep again, with Bucky cradling Steve against his chest.

~*~

Over the next few weeks, they fucked as much as was reasonably possible, and when they were too tired to do that, they lay in bed, naked, touching each other and making out until they fell asleep.

They had to wash their linens nearly every day and they bathed frequently. They were the cleanest boys in Brooklyn. 

His work at the docks picked up and Bucky had to work Saturdays for a month. Steve’s job asked him to stay on for extra weeks, and they were both busy. It gave them a bit more cash. They stocked up on food and bought more Vaseline. 

But they had Sundays to themselves. Sometimes they went dancing. Sometimes they took the train out to the beach at the Far Rockaways, enjoying the sun while it lasted. More of Steve’s freckles appeared, across his nose, on his shoulders, the tops of his knees. In private, Bucky explored each new freckle. 

They celebrated Steve’s birthday, just the two of them, spending time together on the fire escape while the fourth of July celebrations rang in the streets. Bucky had begged his sister to bake a cake, and he and Steve shared it together. Later, in the privacy of their bedroom, Bucky sucked on each of Steve’s fingers, searching out the taste of buttercream frosting.

It might have been his imagination, but he did think receiving regular prostate massages had an effect on Steve. He couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but Steve’s color was healthier, and he had more energy. He’d put on a couple pounds. With a squirm that made him need to hide a sudden erection, Bucky also noted that Steve could get hard more often and came more often. He didn’t know what good that would do Steve overall. It was a subtle change. 

“What are you thinking?” asked Steve, setting down a half-eaten piece of toast as they sat together in their kitchen, the last of the birthday cake reduced to crumbs. It was late on another Sunday, already well past midday but they had only just eaten breakfast after skipping church again, too lazy to make other plans. They were both in their robes, wearing nothing else. 

Bucky crooked his finger at Steve, then patted his lap, indicating what he was thinking. He was thinking he wanted Steve to sit on him, to straddle him. Steve read his mind and turned bright red.

“What? Here? In the kitchen? We just ate.”

The thought of Steve naked but with a round belly, slightly distended from having enough to eat, just made Bucky more turned on. Brazenly, he untied his robe, revealing his erection. It was like the air got sucked out of the room. The tip of his cock was wet, and Bucky spread it around, beginning to stroke himself. 

“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” said Steve, still red-faced but with his eyes locked on Bucky’s hand going up and down on his dick. His nostrils flared, and he swallowed, clearly turned on.

Bucky gave him a cocky grin, pleased with himself for making Steve swear. “Ah ah ah,” he waggled his finger at Steve. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” he teased. “Get over here already.”

Steve made a face at him and even rolled his eyes, the cheeky bastard, but he got up from his chair, his robe falling undone and open as he walked toward Bucky. Bucky lowered his eyes, searching through the folds for Steve’s dick. He made a hungry noise when he saw it, erect and moist at the tip.

“Let me taste it,” he said, raising his eyes up to Steve. “I’m still hungry.”

Steve grunted, just a quiet noise in the back of his throat, guiding Bucky’s head down. Bucky closed his eyes as he took the tip of Steve’s cock into his mouth, moaning as he tightened the grip on his own cock. Steve thrust gently a few times, getting all of his dick wet, but then he pulled away. 

His robe fell to the floor, and then he made Bucky take his robe off all the way and they were both naked. Steve was panting, lifting Bucky’s chin up as he bent down to kiss him, straddling Bucky, sitting on his lap, lining their cocks together. 

They didn’t break the kiss, moaning into each other’s mouth, slobbery and wet. Bucky rubbed at Steve’s stomach like he’d wanted to before. Steve draped his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, cradling him close as he thrust. Bucky grabbed hold of both Steve’s butt cheeks and they ground their cocks together. He swiped his fingers against Steve’s hole, fingering it. They picked up speed, Steve clutched him tight, and then he came, gasping and jerking against Bucky, making small earnest sounds, keening. Bucky held him through it, then, gathering his strength, he picked Steve up, his legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, and carried him into the bedroom. 

They lay down, and Bucky immediately rolled onto his back with Steve on top, determined to make Steve come again. Steve was rather boneless from his earlier orgasm, but Bucky made him sit up, thrusting his hard cock against Steve’s hole. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“Okay,” mumbled Steve, helping by taking his weight, adjusting to grab Bucky’s dick. 

They needed more slick, and Bucky quickly grabbing the jar, smearing it over his cock and Steve’s hole, then pushing in and Steve sank down, shuddering from head to toe. 

They were getting much better at this. Bucky was mesmerized by the sight of Steve bouncing on his cock, coupled with the incredibly tight grip of his ass. Steve cried out each time as Bucky found his prostate with his dick, knowing what angle worked. Steve threw his head back, working his ass, and then came untouched, shooting all over Bucky’s face, crying out with the most beautiful orgasmic expression. Bucky was in love, and he gripped Steve’s hips, pounding into him, following him into oblivion.

~*~

It couldn’t last, their idyllic summer of warm baths, evenings on the fire escape, and sex all night long. The world didn’t work like that. The summer ended, and the news from Europe was disheartening while tensions with Japan increased. There was much talk of war on both fronts as the days slide into fall and then into winter.

It was Friday, December 5, 1941. Released from the docks early, Bucky picked up Steve from his work and they walked home together, stopping briefly at the apothecary. Bucky opted to wait outside, blowing on his hands for warmth while he watched Steve through the shop window. 

Lost in thought, he wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings until his woolgathering was interrupted by a group of women walking down the sidewalk, laughing. He straightened when he recognized Dot, walking arm-in-arm with a friend of hers. She looked surprised to see him. The ladies all stopped, looking knowingly at him and then at Dot, whispering to each other. 

“Hello Dot,” he said, tipping his hat and nodding at the other ladies. 

“Hi Bucky,” she said. He’d forgotten how pretty Dot was, with her strawberry red hair and her sparkling blue eyes, the picture of a lovely Irish lass. She smiled sweetly, and he could see that all was forgiven for his dumb behavior from before.

They stepped away from her giggling friends to speak and before he even knew what was what he agreed to meet her later.

The door chime tinkled in the chilled air, and Bucky looked over to see Steve stepping out of the Apothecary carrying a brown paper bag. Bucky froze, looking between Steve and Dot as they greeted each other cordially. Steve and Dot had always been friendly and polite with each other. And why shouldn’t they be? Bucky had lost count how many times he’d dragged Steve along on one of his dates with Dot. But seeing them standing together left Bucky feeling unsettled and confused, and like he’d made a big mistake but he didn’t know what that mistake was. 

Dot waved goodbye. “Well, I’ll see you later,” she said to Bucky before rejoining her giggling friends. They all immediately linked arms, still giggling, as Dot looked back and tossed her hair, flashing him a smile. 

Bucky glanced at Steve and then almost laughed. Steve was watching the group of women in complete fascination, his mouth half-open. Bucky tapped Steve’s chin. “You’re gonna get sick walking around like that.”

Steve snapped his mouth shut but didn’t stop watching until Dot and her friends turned the corner and were out of sight. Seeing Steve eyeballing the pretty ladies with his eyes as big as saucers made Bucky feel better, but also more confused. 

Then Steve sighed. Just a small, simple sigh. Of resignation and acceptance. But then he straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. “I guess you made up with her, huh?”

Bucky’s chest tightened, trying to read what Steve was thinking. “Yeah. I’m taking her out later.” 

Steve furrowed his brow, then patted Bucky on the shoulder. “Don’t mess it up like last time.”

Bucky opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. They continued walking home. Later, as he finished getting ready to meet Dot, he kept remembering Steve’s sigh, and the look of acceptance on his face.

~*~

Something was off inside him again, but Bucky tried to show Dot a good time. She loved to dance and so did he, and for a couple of hours that’s all they did. It should have been a simple carefree evening. Except he kept overhearing conversations about the tyrant in Germany, as well as how eager some of the boys were to go to war. It set his teeth on edge and made him think of Steve sketching in his notebook at home.

Once again, Bucky drank too much too quickly, and his head swam with the lights in the dance hall. Dot was disappointed, and it was all his fault. He wanted to go home, to Steve. “I’m sorry,” he said to her, leading her away from the dance hall. It hadn’t been much of a fun evening after all. 

“It’s all right,” she said, even though it wasn’t. “You’re worried. Everyone is.”

She was a kind-hearted girl, and he didn’t deserve her kindness. He walked her home, and by the time he made it back to his and Steve’s building, his head was clear again. He eagerly ran up the stairs, wondering if Steve was awake or if he’d gone to bed. It wasn’t that late, but Steve might be tired.

The apartment was dark, answering Bucky’s question. Steve was asleep. He tried to be quiet as he undressed in the moonlight. The room was chilly and he shivered, slipping into bed beside Steve. He immediately felt better as he lined up against Steve’s warm back, spooning up behind him. 

“Bucky?” asked Steve, shifting slightly. “What time is it?”

“Just past midnight, I think,” said Bucky. “Go back to sleep.”

Steve resettled, dragging Bucky’s arm around his middle and they wiggled comfortably together. “You’re home early,” he said, voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah,” said Bucky, and there must have been a hint or a clue in his voice because Steve became still, and then turned around completely in Bucky’s arms to face him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

Bucky opened his mouth to say nothing was wrong but his throat closed and to his total shame he felt his cheeks grow hot and his eyes sting. He buried his hot face against Steve’s neck, trying to hide. 

Steve, alarmed but trying to be calm, wiped at Bucky’s tears. “It’s going to be okay, whatever it is.”

“I’m sorry,” muttered Bucky. Steve sat up to turn on the bedside lamp. Warm, low light filled the room, and Bucky took a deep breath when he saw how worried Steve was. “I’m fine.”

“What is it?”

Bucky groaned, lying on his back, covering his face. “I’m an idiot.”

“Did you mess up with Dot again?” asked Steve. 

“Yes, but that’s not what’s wrong.” Bucky removed his hands from his face, turning to look at Steve. Steve was so earnest, so worried and…. Bucky’s heart broke. He lifted a hand to trail across the bridge of Steve’s nose. Those summer freckles were gone, but Bucky knew where they were even if they were invisible. He knew each freckle by heart. “Steve, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Sure you can,” said Steve, supportive but not even knowing what it was Bucky couldn’t do. “You can do anything.”

Bucky laughed. “No, you idiot. I can’t do this.” He grabbed a fistful Steve’s pajama top. “I can’t be with a dame and also be with you. Like this.” He smoothed his hand down Steve’s chest to his waist, circling around to palm his ass.

“Oh.” Steve blushed. His eyes darted back and forth as he studied Bucky, that familiar crease between his brows. “Well, that’s an easy thing to fix. I don’t need…I don’t need that massage anymore. I’m fine.”

Bucky stopped as panic filled him from head to toe. Was it so easy for Steve to decide like that? To just end things between them like that?

His panic must have shown in his face because Steve’s eyes grew very wide. “Hey, hey,” said Steve, calmly, petting him. “You don’t want to stop?” he asked, gently. 

Bucky remembered to breathe, and he shook his head. He had to wipe at his eyes again. “Do you?” he asked, only a little ashamed at how desperate he sounded.

Steve swallowed, that furrow between his brow deepening. “Bucky,” he said. “I’m not sure what we’re saying here. How serious are we being right now?”

“Pretty fucking serious, Steve.”

“All right,” he said, squeezing Bucky’s arm. “Remember that first night? Do you remember, Buck? When you asked me if we were okay?”

Bucky nodded. “You said we were.”

“That’s right. Always.” He lifted Bucky’s chin so their eyes could meet. “You and me. Whatever happens. We’re always going to be okay. You don’t have to worry about that. Friends, to the end of the line. You got it?”

Bucky took in a big breath, then nodded. “I got it. But things are not that simple.”

“No, I guess they aren’t.” Steve fell silent for a second. “I guess I thought it wasn’t real. What we do together. Or maybe I just convinced myself it wasn’t real. Just something we were doing because it felt good and you were helping me.”

“I thought the same thing,” sighed Bucky. “But it feels real now. Steve, I couldn’t go through with it tonight. I mean, Dot and I danced for a time, but everyone was talking about going to war, and I kept thinking of you, and each time I was with her, I just wanted to be with you. And that’s not fair. Especially not to her. And I just don’t know what to think or do, or anything.”

Steve was watching him with a deep, questioning gaze. But then he smiled. And Bucky smiled back. “We’re quite the pair,” said Steve with a bigger grin. 

Buck groaned. “The dumb thing is I still like her. I like being with her. And all the girls I’ve been with. I mean, I find them attractive. I like holding them. I like the way they feel.”

“Of course you do,” said Steve. “I like ‘em too.”

“You do? When was the last time you held a girl?”

“Hey,” said Steve. “I can imagine it, you know. And I’m pretty sure that I’d like it just fine.”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” said Bucky, teasing.

“I like breasts,” said Steve, like he was confessing something. He turned bright red. 

Bucky felt his eyebrows go up to his hairline. But he snickered. “I like breasts, too. Breasts are great. They feel great.” He made a gesture like he was holding a pair of melons. Bucky’s dick twitched. 

“And, I like nipples,” said Steve, red-faced and stubborn about it. 

Bucky laughed, wondering where this conversation was going. “Yeah, okay, I have to agree with you there,” said Bucky. “I believe you, by the way. So we both still like women, and still want to be with them. That way.”

Steve sighed. “I’m not any less terrified of asking one to dance though.”

Bucky shook his head. This was a familiar topic between them. “I don’t know how you can be the bravest man I know and still be so chicken-livered asking a dame to dance.”

Steve frowned. “They’re so pretty. It’s frightening.”

Bucky grinned, forgetting the seriousness of their earlier conversation. This kid was so sweet, he didn’t understand why everyone in the world wasn’t in love with him. 

“You just need confidence, Steve. You’ve got plenty of confidence with other things. Use some of that when you’re asking a girl to dance,” he coached. “One day, you’ll find the right one.”

“The right one what?” asked Steve.

“The right partner, dumbass,” said Bucky. Steve looked at him like he didn’t know what Bucky was talking about. And maybe he didn’t. Bucky took Steve’s hand in his, weaving their fingers together. He thought of Dot. Of what he would feel if Steve really did find the right girl. But he knew he’d feel sick with jealousy. “Were you jealous at all?”

“Of who? Of you or Dot?”

“I don’t know,” said Bucky, suddenly feeling shy himself. “I mean, you saw me asking Dot out tonight and didn’t even say anything to stop me. Maybe you want to end things. Maybe you don’t want to do this with me anymore. Or you don’t care.”

Steve tilted his head, reprimanding. “Bucky. Of course I care. And I’m always jealous. I’m jealous of you, of Dot, of all the girls you date, of the guys at work. Your work, my work. At everyone at school. At everyone who doesn’t have to worry about getting sick. At the whole world all the time. Sometimes I’m so jealous I can’t see straight. But I learned a long time ago that I have to let that go. I can’t live with anger and jealousy, I can’t let it define who I am. That’s not who I want to be. If I let bitterness take over, well… That will kill me a lot faster than any illness.”

Bucky stared at him, dumbstruck. Completely in awe. He didn’t know what to say to that. “How do you…?” Bucky swallowed, still holding Steve’s hand. “How do you let that go?”

Steve gave him a lopsided smile. “I work at it. Every day.” Bucky closed his eyes, nodding, leaning against Steve, craving that connection. Steve rested his cheek against Bucky’s head. “To answer your question from before, I didn’t say anything earlier when you asked Dot out because I didn’t want to get in your way. I never want to do that. If you wanted to go dancing with Dot, then I want that too. It’s not a question of being jealous. I want what you want. It’s that simple.”

Bucky pulled away to look at Steve, holding him in place. “What if I want you?”

They stared at each other. Bucky knew he’d surprised Steve and that even with everything they’d already said to each other, Steve found it hard to believe that Bucky would choose him over Dot. 

“I mean it, Steve. You keep saying that I don’t have to choose. And I appreciate that. I love you for it. But we both know that’s not true. One day, we’re going to have to choose. Or the choice is going to be taken from us. What we’ve got going here, it can’t go on like this, just the two of us, holed up in this apartment. But, what if I want to choose you?”

Steve was looking back and forth at both of Bucky’s eyes. But the fact that he didn’t say anything – or maybe that he couldn’t say anything – said a lot more than words could. Bucky nodded, and then he felt a wave of sadness. He wasn’t free to choose Steve. That wasn’t how this world worked.

“I’m not ready to lose this,” he said, his throat so tight he barely had any sound, feeling the panic rise again.

“Hey,” said Steve, finally breaking his silence. “Shh. It’s okay,” he said, cradling Bucky. “Nothing is changing right now.” 

Bucky sighed. “Thing is,” he said, leaning into Steve. “I think it is. I think everything is changing.”

Steve looked like he wanted to argue. “We don’t know what the future will bring.”

That’s true. They didn’t. They had no idea. 

“So, where does that leave us?” Bucky asked with a sigh, but he was enjoying having Steve’s arms around him, rocking him back and forth. 

“Right back where we started,” said Steve. “A pair of idiots.”

Despite everything, Bucky chuckled, and though nothing had changed and everything was still confusing and topsy turvy, he felt a lot better. 

“Bucky,” said Steve, shifting so they both had to look at each other. “Would you really choose me?”

Sea-blue eyes, and tousled messy hair, plump red lips. Bucky grinned, trailing one finger down Steve’s face. “Yeah.”

Steve grinned, then leaned in to kiss him. They kissed slowly, deeply, giving and taking, until Steve pulled away. 

“You listen now,” he said, a crease between his brows, very serious. “I’m not going to hold you to that.”

“Steve—“ he protested, but Steve clamped a hand over his mouth. 

“I choose you too, you jerk. But neither of us can hold each other to that. And what’s more, I don’t think we want to. Do you understand? You love to go dancing. If that’s what you love, I won’t ever stop you. What’s more, I don’t want to stop you. I love watching you dance.”

“Does dancing mean just dancing?” he asked. 

“It means whatever you want it to mean. Bucky, this,” he indicated the space between them. “It won’t ever go away. Even if we have to stop. Do you understand?”

Bucky nodded, but he didn’t understand. He already felt they were moving past this moment. This cocoon of time that was just themselves, hidden away in their Brooklyn apartment…it couldn’t last. Something would come along and change everything.

But not tonight. 

They lay facing each other. Bucky fingered the buttons on Steve’s nightshirt. “Did you say you like nipples?” Bucky asked. 

A gleam entered Steve’s eyes, then they dropped to Bucky’s bare chest. “I seem to remember mentioning something like that.”

Bucky cupped the back of Steve’s head, digging his fingers through his hair, then gently guiding him down to his chest. He breathed in as Steve licked one nipple, swirling his tongue around, playing with it before sucking on it. Bucky grunted, instantly hard. He didn’t know what it was about doing this that made him so hot. Steve sucked and sucked, then licked and sucked again. 

“That feels good,” said Bucky, gently nudging Steve to his other nipple. He felt his dick spurt a bit of wetness in his underpants, then felt to see how hard Steve was. Steve bit gently at Bucky’s nipple and Bucky arched. More come leaked out. 

Never letting go of Bucky’s nipple, Steve unbuttoned Bucky’s underwear so his cock sprung free. Their pleasure chased all the sadness out of the room, and they both groaned as Bucky tugged on Steve’s pajamas. They pulled apart just long enough for Bucky to shimmy out of his underpants and for Steve to strip naked. 

Steve pushed Bucky back down to lie flat, resuming his task of sucking on Bucky’s nipples while jacking Bucky off, slowly and firmly. Each time Steve sucked on his nipple, Bucky’s cock jumped until he gripped Steve tight and came, thrusting into his hand. 

They lay quietly after, enjoying their closeness. How Bucky was expected to give this up, he did not know. Steve was still giving quiet attention to Bucky’s nipple, not as urgently as before, but licking it, playing with it, kissing it, while his hard cock jutted up against Bucky’s hip, reminding him that Steve hadn’t come yet. 

“Hey, Stevie,” Bucky asked.

“Yeah,” answered Steve, giving each nipple one last kiss. 

“Would you…um…” Bucky felt shy again, and knew his ears were probably red. Steve was looking at him, curiously. “Would you do, um, you know…” He swallowed, then leaned in to whisper into Steve’s ear. “Stick your fingers in me. And then fuck me.”

Steve froze, but then he looked at Bucky with wide eyes. “You really want that?”

Bucky nodded. “I want to know what it feels like.”

Steve took his time deciding, studying him while he continued to play with Bucky’s nipples. Then, without saying another word, he shifted to sit between Bucky’s knees. 

Silently, Bucky handed him the jar of slick. Steve kissed his way down Bucky’s chest, to his stomach, briefly licking at his belly button which made Bucky squirm, then down to nuzzle and kiss all around Bucky’s slowly hardening cock, licking at the mess they’d already made. 

Bucky groaned, closing his eyes as Steve sucked on him, pushing his legs even wider. When Steve touched his hole, Bucky jerked, gasping. His dick thrust into Steve’s mouth, back to full hardness. 

It felt nice, Steve sucking on him while his finger circled his hole, dipping inside now and again. Then, Steve let go of his cock, letting it fall from his lips, wet and stiff against Bucky’s stomach, as he pushed one finger all the way into the second knuckle, pressing up. Bucky jerked so hard from the sensation he almost knocked them both off the bed. 

“What the…” he panted. It was like Steve touched a live wire inside of him, and he wasn’t entirely certain if he liked it or not. 

“Easy,” said Steve. “Don’t forget to breathe.”

Steve did it again, and Bucky was more prepared the second time. The electric jolt of it eased, and then all Bucky felt was a direct connection from Steve to every nerve in Bucky’s body suddenly lit up from within. It was different than the fast-rising pleasure of a tight grip on Bucky’s cock. This felt like fire under his skin, melting his spine, tingling his fingers and toes and even all the way to his chest. It pooled in his belly. He realized that Steve now had two fingers inside of him, doing the same dance that Bucky liked to do on him. In and out, circling around, gentle but with pressure, drumming against his prostate, building the pleasure until it felt like it would cascade all over him. It felt incredible. 

“More,” he asked, opening his eyes to realize that Steve had been watching him closely. “Put it in me. I want to feel you inside me.”

Steve grew still. He crooked his fingers once, sending another jolt of electricity through Bucky before he withdrew. Bucky didn’t know what position Steve was going to want him in until Steve pushed him onto his side and then lay behind him. 

Bucky tensed, like Steve was going to shove it in all at once. But of course he didn’t do that. They lay with Steve gently caressing down Bucky’s back, kissing his neck, reaching around to play with Bucky’s nipples. One hand flicked at a nipple and the other reached down to jack Bucky’s cock back up to standing, and then Bucky felt Steve’s cock nudge its way in between his cheeks. Steve rubbed more slick in, then parted Bucky’s butt cheeks. His dick rubbed all around his hole, up and down, pressing into his balls. 

“Ready?” asked Steve. Bucky nodded, non-verbal, but he was ready for it. 

Steve’s cock pressed gently into Bucky’s entrance. A thought came to Bucky, just at that moment. Steve could no longer say he was a virgin, not with everything they’d been doing for the last several months, but tonight Steve was going to fuck someone for the very first time. And that someone was Bucky. Bucky thought his heart would melt from the joy of it.

“Now,” he said, panting. “Push it in now.”

Steve pushed in. His cock slid past the first ring, and Bucky saw stars. It was both uncomfortable and heaven at the same time. But it didn’t hurt at all, and then Steve’s hard cock pushed right past Bucky’s prostate and Bucky yelled into his pillow as the pleasure overtook him. He didn’t know what he was saying anymore. All he knew was that he wanted more. He begged for it. More and harder, and he wanted it to go on until he came apart atom by atom, split into pieces. 

Steve fucked him with firm strokes, and the angle was perfect. Each thrust built on the one before it, until Bucky was a total incoherent mess. Steve went faster, reaching around and grabbing Bucky’s cock, stroking it up and down. Bucky came with a sudden force, so hard he saw stars. It felt like his orgasm was yanked out of every cell in his body, flooding him with pleasure that came and came in mind-numbing waves. It took a few seconds for him to recover, panting. His throat hurt from yelling, muffled into the bedsheets. But he wasn’t so far gone as to not sense Steve beside him, feeling the tension in his body. 

“Steve, you didn’t go?” he asked, pulling Steve against him. 

“No. I was concentrating too hard on you,” said Steve, trembling. 

“Stick it in me again,” said Bucky, shifting onto his back with Steve lying on top of him. “Like this. So I can see you.”

“…are you sure?” asked Steve, but he was already adding more slick to Bucky’s stretched out hole. 

They both sighed when Steve pushed back in. “I’m sure,” said Bucky, bending so he and Steve could look at each other, so he could look into Steve’s sea-blue eyes. “I want to feel you come inside me. Fuck me, Steve. Come inside me.”

Steve shuddered all over, his eyes darkening as he thrust in and out, seeking his pleasure, using Bucky to get off. Bucky was mesmerized, feeling the pounding Steve was giving him. Bucky wasn’t going to come again but he still felt every jolt, and he loved it. He loved being this close to Steve, even if he wasn’t going to get off. In some ways it made it more special, that he could concentrate solely on Steve, watching for that moment when Steve crested into orgasm, and then getting to hold him through it, feeling the rush of come inside him, spilling out. What a gift. 

Steve had said, the first time they’d fucked, how he’d liked the closeness of it. Bucky hadn’t understood then, but he did now. 

“You’re perfect,” he crooned, cradling Steve, loving him, kissing him as they both slowly cooled off.

~*~

They slept. Then in the wee hours of the morning, Bucky asked Steve to fuck him again, getting on his hands and knees. All day Saturday, they lay in bed naked, making out. They paused to eat and bathe, and Steve fucked Bucky again in the kitchen, and then on the sofa. They went to bed early, exhausted and with no juice left in either one of them, sleeping all night long until they woke again early on Sunday morning. Instead of going to church, Steve sucked Bucky’s cock, then climbed on top of him to ride Bucky’s cock until he came all over Bucky’s chest. They took turns fucking each other.

It wasn’t until sometime in the late afternoon – the clock in their bedroom said it was almost three pm – when they heard a loud commotion coming in off the streets. The yelling, the cries of alarm, the fearful shouting. They stopped what they were doing, and looked out the window, trying to see what was going on. Naked, with only a towel wrapped around him, Bucky stepped out into the fire escape, peering down the alley.

“I don’t know what it is,” he said, stepping back inside. “There’s people gathering in the streets.”

They looked at each other. Steve was dressing, slowly. “Do you think we should go see?”

Bucky shook his head. His heart was pounding, and somehow, he already knew. It seemed that he had known all weekend, though that was impossible of course. “I don’t want to.”

“I know,” said Steve. “But I think we should.”

Bucky closed his eyes. They got dressed in warm clothes, with Bucky wrapping an extra scarf all around Steve’s head. When they stepped out into the street, the fresh air smacking them in the face. There was a kid selling newspapers at the end of the block. Several men and women were standing around, reading. People were shouting from window to window. 

Bucky handed the kid a couple of nickels, then took two newspapers. The headline read: ‘Pearl Harbor Bombed. Thousands Dead.’” The date was December 7, 1941. 

He and Steve read every word of that newspaper. They sat in their kitchen, listening to the news reports on the radio, drinking coffee as the noise in the streets continued. All the talk of war before had seemed so far away, but it was different reading about it in black and white. Thousands dead. Steve was staring out their kitchen window with a look of sheer determination, and Bucky remembered back to the start of the summer when he and Steve had sat in the kitchen and he’d asked him if they were going to go to war. 

The next day, the U.S. declared war on Japan. And everything changed. 

But that night, he and Steve still lay in each other’s arms, holding on for as long as they could.

**Author's Note:**

> Please reblog on [tumblr!](https://ao3feed-stucky.tumblr.com/post/629339793540644864/fire-escape-nights) Thank you. :)
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://kayseewrites.tumblr.com/)! Where I am unfortunately not very interesting.


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